


Is Someone There?

by nschimm



Category: Till Death Do Us Part (Game)
Genre: Abuse, Creepy, Forgot about that tag, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Happy Ending, NSFW, Oh wait, Oral Sex, Other, Police, Stalking, anyways I hope you enjoy, but it can be disturbing for some people, but seriously don't... don't continue to read this if you get uncomfortable, crazy ex, dubcon, especially you EP, hang on is there a tag for 'gender neutral reader', i hope you enjoy it my d00d, it's not too bad (i've written waaaay worse), meh sure that works i suppose, no more tag rambles, oh also tag update, okay okay enjoy this garbage that i did in like two days, okay okay i'm good i'll post it now, that's important i think, there's not much smut but i had fun writing this, uhm i can't think of anything else to add tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 00:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11452059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nschimm/pseuds/nschimm
Summary: You're recently divorced and trying to move forward. For some reason you can't quite place, it almost feels like your ex-husband Marcus is still in your life...





	Is Someone There?

**Author's Note:**

> asdf okay well i did this in like two days but i'm pretty happy with it so here we goooo
> 
> also i'm hella excited for this game to come out tbh!!

It wasn’t Marcus’s temper that separated you two. You could handle the occasional stressed outburst pretty easily. No, it was his constant smothering.

You used to feel so safe knowing he was always nearby. He was crazy about you and it showed - but not always in the best of ways.

If your phone died and you didn’t have a charger on you, he’d assume the absolute worst. The texts would show his manic obsession, his constant anxiety that _anything could’ve happened to his precious baby._

It would start off sweet.

 

  * Thinking of you~ <3



 

A few minutes would go by without your response. Marcus would get antsy. It would show.

 

  * Haha, busy day at work. Hope I’m not bothering you while you sit at home, darling. <3 <3



 

Half an hour. Forty-five minutes. Six more texts.

 

  * I sure hope you aren’t ignoring me.


  * No, you wouldn’t. Did something happen?


  * Are you alright?


  * Something happened didn’t it


  * didn’t it


  * stay where you are im tracing your phone location



 

Maybe by then, if you were lucky, you’d have stumbled across a charger and seen all of his messages.

 

  * Why arent you responding what went wrong stay where you are i said stay where you are baby i love you so much



 

You always felt awful for upsetting him. But still, shouldn’t you be able to go five minutes without talking to him? Have some personal space?

You’d respond with something along the lines of:

 

  * babe don’t worry. my phone died, not me



 

You could practically see him clenching his phone in his right hand until his knuckles turned white - an almost impossible feat due to his darker complexion."Holy shit you had me worried", he’d respond. "I’m so glad you’re okay."

You bit your lip and closed your eyes.

 

  * let’s talk about this when you come home, sweetheart. love you



 

A moment passed.

 

  * You left out the “I”. I love you. <3 <3 <3



 

That was it. If you were forced to pinpoint the moment you decided to end the marriage, it was right there. That little tick he had piled on top of his constant paranoia left you exhausted every single day.

The trial was messy. Being a police officer, he had many good friends in the legal system. Friends willing to work with him in any way possible to give him a hand.

But finally, finally, finally, it was over and done with. You had your half, he had his. You considered a restraining order just in case - his paranoia didn’t stop at all during the procedure - but you decided against it. What you did do, however, was block his number and all of his accounts on social media. Seeing him would hurt. You needed to move on.

It was quiet in your new apartment. Your cat purred against your fingertips as you scratched her forehead. With your other hand you held a book, _How To Move Forward_. You never liked self-help books, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Thoughts of Marcus still crept into your mind at odd hours. In the shower, remembering how he’d join you even when you hadn’t brushed your teeth yet. While you made lunch, remembering how he’d pinch your ass playfully as you made the two of you something to eat. Late night “grown-up” thoughts weren’t uncommon either.

You’d be enjoying yourself, taking your time, approaching your peak, when you’d mumble his name out of habit. That brought it all to a grinding halt as you clonked yourself in the forehead with your knuckles, frustrated that you couldn’t finish because of your own error.

The cat purred more deeply, curling her tail around your arm. Her ears perked up suddenly and her head jerked away from you. You felt her hair stand on end.

There was a noise.

It sounded like something fell over, something in your bedroom. You closed your book curiously, wondering what could’ve tipped while you weren't in there. You began to rise and your cat hissed at the vacant hallway, scurrying as far away in the opposite direction as she could. You strained your ears and set the book on the sofa. Absentmindedly, your hand wandered to your pocket for your cell.

The cell you’d left in your bedroom.

“H-hello?” you called.

Silence.

A breeze.

But you hadn’t left the window open.

A memory jumped back to you-- something Marcus had said when you’d suggested getting a dog.

_“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be all the guard dog you need.”_

This little snippet sent chills down your spine. Instinctively you went to the pantry to grab the small fire extinguisher. You didn’t keep any weapons in the house, but it was the first thing he’d told you to go for in an emergency like this.

_“First of all, it’s heavy. If you have to get close to him- and I pray to God you don’t- it’ll put him in some serious pain if you knock him over the head with it. The other thing is, it’s filled with either carbon dioxide or nitrogen, both of them pressurized. A cloud of that in his face would suffocate him.”_

You pulled the tab in the fire extinguisher - a thin metal bar - to prepare for the worst. Slowly, slowly, agonizingly slowly, you crept down the hall, cotton socks on the hardwood floor making it nearly impossible to hear you. You stuck to the wall. Quiet. Quiet.

A creak from your bedroom. You gripped the fire extinguisher with sweaty palms.

After a deep breath, you announced, “I am armed. Come out slowly or face the consequences.”

_“You have to convince him you’re in charge. Assertiveness will catch them off guard, usually, when it comes from someone who isn’t a cop.”_

Another creak from the bedroom, then a slam.

You positioned the fire extinguisher in front of you. Ready to pull the trigger and release a cloud of foam.

You pushed the door open quickly with your shoulder, makeshift weapon at the ready, scanning your bedroom with the ferocity of a frightened animal. Nothing.

You checked under the bed, in the closet, the side bathroom, every single nook and cranny, before you snatched your phone from the nightstand.

Police.

“911, how may I be of assistance?” a young woman asked.

“Someone broke into my home,” you choked out. “I believe it was my ex-husband. Please send someone, I-I don’t feel safe.”

“We’ll send a dispatcher to your location. Stay where you are for now. What is your address?”

You told her and she thanked you. After hanging up you glanced around a bit more. You decided not to tamper with the things the intruder knocked over, they could probably be searched for fingerprints.

The fire extinguisher felt heavy in your hand as you trudged back to your living room. Whoever it was, they didn’t take anything. Your phone buzzed.

An unknown number had texted you.

 

  * They aren’t coming.



 

A lump rose in your throat. Fingers wavering, you barely managed to type out,

 

  * i think you might have the wrong number. who is this?



 

No more than two minutes passed.

 

  * I think we both know who it is, bebe ko.



 

You felt sick. Supremely, utterly sick. Beads of sweat gathered at your forehead, matting your hairline.

 

  * what do you want? why are you here? god, don’t break into my house. here, i can… i’ll talk to you. don’t do anything rash, alright?



 

A few moments. A knock at the front door.

You pocketed your phone and slid the fire extinguisher into your left hand. As you opened the door, you made sure to keep it out of his view by holding it in the same hand as the one that held the door handle. The wooden frame blocked it from his sight. Your grip was firm.

Before he could say anything, you blurted out, “Marcus, what the fuck?! I… I can’t believe this. I--”

You froze to take him in. He was unshaven and he stunk a bit. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days, maybe a week. Maybe more. A weary smile rested on his lips, but he looked tremendously hurt.

“I tried. I tried, I tried, I tried. I’m keeping you safe. I’m…” He trailed off and looked at the ground. “I’m loving you, okay? How else am I supposed to do it? Do you know what this divorce has done to me? What it’s been doing to you?”

He made his way inside with a slight push. The fire extinguisher fell from your grip with a clang, drawing his attention away from you. He closed the door with a nudge from his foot before you could make a break for it. Fear was in your eyes.

“You.. You thought I would hurt you.” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was fact. He clenched his jaw firmly. You could see the levels of anger rising slowly as he tried to push them back down.

“I didn’t know what else to think. I swear, I-”

He silenced you with a tart smack across the face.

You froze up and backed away, only to bump into the back of your couch.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll call the--”

“The police?” he asked, flashing his badge.

A choked sob escaped your throat. “Please, Marcus, don’t… Don’t do this.”

“Did you think I couldn’t hear you? Just yesterday, moaning my name like you missed me more than anything in the world, only to hate yourself for it,” He suddenly looked as though he might cry hot tears of rage. “You love me. You do! What we had-- there’s no replacing it!” His veins were beginning to bulge in his forehead. “I love you, so much.” he whispered.

With that, he turned and left, slamming the door harshly.

You dug into your pocket and withdrew your phone, ending the voice recording.

****

Every time you listened to it, you paid closer and closer attention to his voice. Was it detectable? Clearly him? Were his words coherent? Were yours?

It seemed clear. You hadn’t left your house in two days out of fear that Marcus would hunt you down somewhere.

Your new coworkers had invited you to a bar downtown. As politely as possible, you declined. A simple “i’m not up for it this weekend, but thank you!” worked well enough for them.

There was a cute salesman working for the company. Chris. You’d given him your number for “work stuff” but he still hadn’t texted you. The poor thing was desperately shy.

Or did something awful happen to him?

You thought of Marcus’s clenched fist. His veins bulging. That annoyed twitch in his eye.

You texted your other coworker frantically.

 

  * hey do you happen to have chris’s number? i forgot to tell him about an appointment he has next week.



 

Luckily they did. You messaged him quickly, trying not to sound creepy or paranoid.

 

  * is this chris? it’s the new secretary, i gave you my number a few days ago. you okay?



 

Your breath rattled through your lungs for a few minutes. You told yourself to not freak out. Don’t be like Marcus. But maybe he didn’t see the message.

 

  * i got your number from jess in accounting by the way, haha



 

A few more minutes. Your phone buzzed. Unknown number.

 

  * New boyfriend?



 

No, no, no. No. Tears stung your eyes as the breaths came more heavily.

 

  * dont touch him please no hes not my boyfriend hes just a guy that seems nice



 

He responded:

 

  * I’m not anywhere near him. Just curious.



 

Realization hit you. He was monitoring all of your texts.

 

  * how long have you been reading my messages



 

He didn’t respond.

 

  * how long how long marcus please tell me this isnt ok you shouldnt do this


  * you should know better you had to study the law you could get in so much trouble


  * please answer me please please please.



 

A knock at the door made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You crawled towards it, phone clutched to your chest. You made sure to press the record button again. With a fragile hand you grasped the handle and pulled the door open.

Marcus, freshly showered and shaved, looked down at you with genuine concern.

“May I come in, bebe ko? I need to talk to you.”

You sat silently. No response. He walked inside anyways, closing the door behind him. Softly this time.

“I’m sorry about the other day.” He said as he squatted down to your level. “I really… I had a lot of pent up anger. Mostly at myself.”

“Did you hurt him?”

Your voice startled both of you.

Marcus looked confused for a moment before laughing lightly. “Your friend? No. Not at all.”

“Do you know who he is?” Your voice was so raspy and sore.

After a moment of careful consideration, he nodded slowly. “I know who everyone in your new office is.”

You shuddered as a sob echoed through your ribcage. He stayed there, unmoved, until you spoke again.

“Why? Why can’t you j-just move past this? Why do you have to keep stalking me?”

He shook his head, looking at you like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Because I love you,” he said. “I always have and I always will.”

Marcus rose and extended his hand for you to take. Reluctantly you did, using his strength to ease yourself up. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Careful to keep the voice recorder on, you checked the message from Chris.

 

  * Oh hi! sorry for not texting you, i’ve been awfully busy with work yknow. how are you?



 

You sighed in relief and turned your phone off. You could respond to him later. Marcus watched you intently.

“This can’t continue, Marcus.” you muttered. “It just can’t. You know this.”

His eye twitched, and you took half a step back. A look of hurt permeated his face.

“Babe, I’m doing all of this for _you_ …” He said, inching his way closer. “I’m making sure you’re safe. I’m all the guard dog you need, remember?”

You remembered. Of course you remembered. As he wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace, that’s all you could do. Remember. The good times you two had while you were together, how they all seemed so similar yet so distinct. It was several years before you ended it. Several years of his late night shifts and early-morning kisses.

You felt him bury his nose in your hair and inhale deeply. It seemed like he was remembering as well. And based off of the swelling in his pants, he was enjoying doing so.

You pulled out of the hug only slightly, to look up at his face. The moment you made eye contact, he swooped in and stole a kiss. A long one, too. Long and heavy - you were ashamed that you were kissing him back.

“M-marcus, we can’t--”

“Hush,” he growled, resting his hands on your hips with surprising force.

Slowly enough so that Marcus would mistake your anxiety for intimacy, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. Your phone was still firmly placed in your right hand.

He leaned in and locked lips with you, making sure to pause and nibble your lower lip just the way you liked it. You felt yourself whimper in response. You squeezed your eyes closed partially out of regret and partly out of excitement.

Marcus moved his lips along your jaw, then neck. He kept them there as he lifted you to sit on the back of your couch, arms wrapped around your waist, holding on to you like you were his lifeline.

While sending a frantic message to Chris behind his back, you made sure to whisper his name right in his ear, tickling the cup of it with your lips.

“Marcus, Marcus-- Oh, baby, like that--” et cetera, et cetera.

 

  * chris i need you to send the police to my address it’s an emergency do not text me back



 

You added your address to the message along with another “do not text me back ” for good measure. He was a nice guy. He’d follow through. You certainly hoped so.

The voice recorder was still on, you double checked. Evidence was going to be key if you were going to take him to court for this--

Your thoughts were cut short when he ripped your shirt from your body, tearing the fabric right down the middle. You gasped at the sudden wave of cool air. With no undergarments to protect you, you felt tremendously vulnerable. He leaned back a bit to admire your body.

“Wow…” he whispered. “Wow, I’ve missed this.”

You were blushing hard. Old pajama bottoms didn’t serve for much protection from him; the vulture was already tearing you apart with his eyes.

“Please, Marc, don’t look at me like that…”

You took this moment as an opportunity to slide your phone onto the couch cushion and out of his sight. He trailed his fingertips along your sides to send chills down your spine. You shuddered as goosebumps rose on your arms.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered. In less than a second, he was on you again, leaving bites and kisses and gentle sucks all over your torso, desperately trying to consume you. His left hand wandered to your crotch and you whimpered as you tried to pull away for a second.

“M-Marcus, let me go down on you.”

He pulled away for a moment.

“Are… Are you sure? I want to make you feel good, bebe ko.”

Your throat was tremendously dry as you answered, “Yes-- yes, it’s the least I could do for putting you through all of this.”

Truth be told, you just didn’t want his hands on your body any longer. That, and you knew you could handle it in your mouth. Several years of practice.

He was unzipping his pants as you shifted to kneel in front of him. All you needed was to buy some time for the police to show up. You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose for a second, praying to whatever higher power might be up there that they would arrive soon.

After a second, you opened your eyes again to take in his sudden nudity. You pumped his shaft a few times before licking the tip, slowly pressing him into your mouth.

You closed your eyes as he hissed through his teeth, as he tugged your hair. You took all of him, right down to the base.

_The cops should show up any moment please god if they don’t he might hurt you if you make a mistake-_

Bang bang bang.

“This is the police. Open the door.”

His eyes grew wide in terror and rage. You felt his grip tighten in your hair as he began to pull you back - but not fast enough.

You bit him gently and gave him a swift punch to the balls. He recoiled as you scurried under his legs for the door. One quick motion and you jerked it open, two uniformed officers with their badges gleaming.

“Please-- my ex husband-- breaking and entering-- arrest him, please, please, I beg of you--”

One of the officers put their hand on your shoulder while the other descended onto Marcus. You heard her read him his Miranda rights as she cuffed him. He growled threats and curses at you, resisting the officer as he attempted to get closer. You cried into the arms of the other officer as you both backed away - a quick zap and he was tased from behind, his limp body falling to the ground. The female officer stood behind him with her breath heaving out of her heavily. You were a blubbering idiot, saying things like, “My baby, my baby, oh my god did you hurt him? Please tell me he’s okay, please, please--”

She reassured you to the best of her ability that he was only in a state of unconsciousness for the time being so that she could take him in the cop car more easily. The cop whose hand was still resting on your shoulder suggested you go find a shirt to put on before he took you to the station for routine questioning. You nodded feebly and made your way to your bedroom to tug on a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans. You remembered your phone.

“Officers, I, um, was recording the two times he came over to my house. The audio, anyways. That.. I figured it would help with evidence and stuff.”

They smiled and thanked you for being so proactive. You retrieved your phone and ended the audio recording.

You decided to text Chris.

 

  * thank you so much. everything is okay now. thank you, thank you, thank you



 

Within thirty seconds you got a response.

 

  * Oh good okay i was really scared but i’m glad you’re alright



 

A smile crawled across your lips. You turned off your phone and joined the officers to discuss what happened back at the station.

It all went smoothly. Months passed. He was imprisoned for sexual assault, breaking and entering, resisting arrest, and a few other minor charges you couldn’t remember. You could breathe easy again. He was out of your life for good.

Once trial was over and done with and you finally felt safe, you invited Chris to dinner as a thank you. He was a sweet guy, if a little awkward at first.

You couldn’t wait to start this new phase of your life.


End file.
